I remember experiencing the joy of drawing from the time I have learned to hold a pencil. Not knowing anything about it at the age of thirteen,  I have practiced  Mindful Drawing. I liked to observe, pay attention to my surrounding, to people, to things, to the Universe.  I sketched in parks,  on the streets, in the church, in the hospital even minutes before my tonsillectomy. I sketched my idea of how the surgery would look like. I sketched the nurses and my roommates. I was a latchkey child and my sketchbook was my companion. I could turn to it anytime. It was available to me. I never abandoned my trusted friend, and thus I was/am drawing my way through life.